


Compulsion

by wisia



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Hopeful Ending, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8335333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisia/pseuds/wisia
Summary: Yuuri has a habit of sneaking out to Ice Castle whenever he feels anxious. It's only natural that Victor catches him one of these days.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is anime is a lot more interesting than I expected, and a whole lot of gay. I couldn't help but write something short. Please excuse mistakes as I'm posting this in a hurry before dinner.
> 
> And I just wanted to focused on Yuuri's copying Victor's routine. It's cute.
> 
> EDIT: Okay, I fixed the mistakes I could.

The bed creaks, just a tad, and Yuuri winces. He waits, several long minutes before he decides no one in the house has heard him. He slides off, put on his socks. He reaches for his jacket, puts it on directly over his pajamas. He won’t risk the noises he’ll make changing. Like that, Yuuri rushes out the door. He pretends he doesn’t shoot a glance at the closed door where Victor sleeps or how his heart clenches painfully.

The Ice Castle Hasetsu looms in the distance, and the sight of it moves his rushed jog to a slow run. The ache in his chest eases a little bit, and he’s finally able to breathe. Yuuri fingers the key in his pocket like the lifeline it really is and opens the door. A wave of peace washes over him, and his feet feel surer as they make their way to the lockers. He laces up his skates without thought, muscle memory ingrained, as he thinks—

Yuuri shakes his head. That won’t help him.

The ice is smooth, untouched and beautiful. Yuuri will have to clean up before the day starts, but at three in the morning this was all his. He slides onto the ice, quiet and careful, and rounds a single loop around the rink.

Yuuri presses a hand to his chest as he slows and finishes the loop. He wants—he takes off his jacket, throwing it over the rail before he can finish that thought. He takes off his glasses too, and the world goes blurry. No contacts, but he still sets the glasses down. It’s better that way, and he’s off backward.

He slips into the compulsory figures, testing his control as he carefully makes a figure eight. He repeats the figure eight twice more before slipping onto the next and the next until he’s marking a paragraph bracket into the ice. His step technique could always use more work, but…right now? A calmness settles over him, and he smiles as he makes his way to the where the sound machine sits.

Stumbling and squinting, Yuuri manages to select the song he wants. As the music fills the air, he sees Victor in his head, moving gracefully in the Junior World Championship in Sofia. Yuuri blushes. He worn Victor’s costume, worn it, and became a delicious katsudon. He presses his hands to his cheeks, unable to stem the heat, and he has to restart the music.

“Okay,” Yuuri whispers to himself and falls into the music, into the routine that Victor skated in Sofia. He closes his eyes, and skates. Skates freely and sends himself deep into the motions. He jumps, a triple axel, lands it neat. He keeps going, performing Victor’s routine by memory. It’s simpler than “Stay Close to Me”, but it’s Yuuri’s favorite. As the music ends, and he comes to a stop—

“Nani?” Yuuri’s startled by a slow clapping that echoes loud in the wide empty arena.

“Wonderful,” Victor praises, sharp blue eyes set on him. Not that Yuuri can see Victor all that well without his glasses, but there has always been a weight to Victor’s stare. “I’ve always liked that routine.”

“Oh, ano…” Yuuri stutters, not sure how to respond. He doesn’t have to because Victor glides toward him. He feels like a moth, pinned down by Victor’s gaze. It’s almost suffocating.

“I’ve almost forgotten about it,” Victor murmurs, and he’s too close. Yuuri has to tilt his head back a little, just to keep his eyes focused. It’s hard, and he wants to shrink. He does shrink at Victor’s next words. “But shouldn’t you be practicing your routine? If you have time to learn my old routine, you have time to skate.”

“I—gomen. I’m sorry.” Yuuri pulls back, the calm in his entire system lost. He sweats, and what Victor says is true.

“You did this too,” Victor continues, knowing. “Before.”

“Yes,” Yuuri admits. It’s the only reason why Victor even came to Japan, to his pathetic corner of existence. It is a small struggle to find his English. He feels as if his brain has short circuited, and whenever he feels down he can hardly do anything correctly. “I’m amazed Coach Celestino didn’t tell me off.”

He dares to look up at Victor then, and there’s a smile, soft and sweet, on Victor’s lips. It makes Yuuri’s breath catch in his throat. He doesn’t see this expression on Victor often. It’s somehow seems more genuine, more full of, full of feeling compared to the most tender of Victor’s performance on ice. He wishes he could see that smile just a little more clearly and half regrets taking his glasses off.

“Yes, that is a surprise.” Victor says and adds something in Russian that Yuuri doesn’t understand and can’t catch. Yuuri looks to the ice, embarrassed.

“Well,” Yuuri hedges. “It wasn’t like he could stop me.”

It wasn’t like Yuuri didn’t practice his own routine too. In hindsight, he probably could have gotten more sleep, but he never slept well during on season.

“Is that a challenge?”

“No!” But it’s too late, and Victor has him by the arm. “Victor!”

“I’ll go easy on you,” Victor promises. “You’re supposed to be sleeping after all. If you’re not going to rest for optimal health, then…”

Yuuri inhales sharply as Victor pulls him flush against him. Victor’s fingers are cold on the exposed skin on his back from his shirt lifted just the slightest. He was always so generous with his touches, a pat here, and a hug there.

“We’ll skate,” Victor says simply. He pulls Yuuri with ease, and they skate as one across the rink. Yuuri gets turned and pulled, and it’s magnetic the way Victor draws him in. He’s compelled to follow Victor’s every move, every guide. His feet are not as his own.

Victor takes him all over the ice, till no stretch is left untouched, and Yuuri burns with every passing second. He’s too warm even in his thin pajamas. Not once has Victor let him go, always maintaining contact. They spin, and Yuuri is more than dizzy from the action and the way Victor holds him with care. He doesn’t want it to end.

“Jump,” Victor says, and Yuuri jumps. Instead of landing on ice, somehow, Victor has him in his arms.

“Very good, piglet,” Victor nods.

“I’m not a piglet,” Yuuri protests. It’s half-hearted, and Victor laughs.

“You will if you keep eating those pork cutlet bowls.”

Victor is strong, and Yuuri can feel the strength in Victor’s arms. The carry is steady, and Victor doesn’t appear to have any difficulty with a fatty like him.

“Let’s go to bed.” Victor hums a melody as he takes them both across the ice to where Yuuri’s things are. Yuuri doesn’t know what he hopes for then, this close, this near Victor. He hopes he means his bed, that Victor would once more ask that question. Yuuri would say yes this time.

“Alright,” Yuuri says. Nestled in Victor’s arms, it soothes him almost as effectively as skating.


End file.
